


And So, This Is

by Viridian5



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Christmas, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: Schuldig gives Crawford a meaningful gift.
Relationships: Brad Crawford/Schuldig
Comments: 19
Kudos: 23





	And So, This Is

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Akira 17 for reading for me.

With a very earnest look on his face, Schuldig walked into Crawford’s office, sank down on one knee in front of him, held up a small box in his hand, and said, “Brad Crawford--”

No way. “What. The. _Fuck_.”

Schuldig snorted, then convulsed with laughter as he rose back up to his feet with more difficulty and pain than he’d gotten down on the floor. “Ow. Getting up used to be a lot easier.”

“So, this definitely isn’t--”

“ _No_. If I hadn’t already long ago, I’m sure as hell not doing it now.”

His heart had nearly stopped. “You asshole. Was it worth it?”

“ _Totally_. I’m really giving you a gift though.”

“You wavered on and off so often about getting me a Christmas gift that it gave me a headache.”

Shrugging, Schuldig replied, “Sucks to be a precog. Sucks to be a precog near someone who knows how to stop him from getting a conclusive picture of the future.”

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“I didn’t need to be a precog to know that, because you rarely do. I don’t care.” Schuldig handed him the box. “Open it.”

The box was a gaudy mix of “festive” red and green patterns and covered in glitter that came off onto Crawford’s hands, very Schuldig. Crawford opened it to find “A used shell casing for a bullet. Why?”

“That’s the shell of the first bullet you fired after we became a team.”

“The first bullet I fired at an enemy or...?”

“The _first_ bullet. The one you fired at my head.”

The one he fired to make sure Schuldig knew which of the two of them was the boss in the team. “...I have so many questions.”

“Its meaning has changed a lot of times over the years for me. At the start, I resented it, and you. Understandably.” 

“So, it was your reminder to take vengeance on me?”

“It’s not like I really needed a reminder aside from just dealing with you back then, but sure. Anyway, things change. And now we’re coming up on the last Christmas of the 2010s, a new year, and a new decade, and we’re still alive and masters of our own destiny, and we’ve been working together for about 35 years.”

Crawford could’ve felt somewhat touched by that but instead said, “Brass is for the 21st anniversary, not the 35th.”

“Whine, whine. Like we ever do anything like the normies do.”

“What am _I_ supposed to do with this?”

“Maybe _you_ could carry it for the next 35 years. You could stand to do more things to carry your weight in this partnership.”

“You mean aside from doing the many things you find too boring to be bothered with?” 

At 58, Crawford did much more of the planning than fieldwork these days. At 53, even Schuldig had started to delegate more of the physical stuff to younger (and expendable) underlings, though he remained vigorous enough to get out there himself when he felt like it, which was often. Given the risks of their profession and the strain their psychic abilities put on their bodies, especially their brains, they’d done remarkably well for themselves. While Schuldig had lost the prettiness of his youth, he was handsome and aging gracefully, which almost made up for his terrible personality. 

Schuldig had his gun out, pointed at Crawford’s head. “Or you could die right now and we won’t get a 36th anniversary.”

If Schuldig hadn’t already killed him long ago, he was sure as hell not going to do it now. Crawford couldn’t resist the urge to smile as he replied, “Oh, you heard that? Sucks to be a telepath.”

“Blow me. No, I mean really blow me.”

“If you’ll reciprocate.”

Schuldig holstered his gun. “Sure.”

“We’ll have to take this somewhere else because my knees are worse than yours.”

“No kidding. We’re going to bed.”

This wasn’t how Crawford saw Christmas Eve going this year, but he thought it turned out rather well. 

### End


End file.
